Erotic Tweed
by FinessMcGayor
Summary: It starts with Coach Skywalker needing to talk to Professor Kenobi and goes on to have them getting Starbucks every day, creating a friendship between the two men that may or may not turn into something more (they don't know, we don't know). It doesn't hurt that Professor Kenobi has a nice arse either. - HIATUS


**I know I need to stop starting fics until I've finished my other fics. But whatever. I came up with this idea when I saw thehaydenclone's picture on deviantART of Ahsoka, Anakin, and Obi-Wan in a high school AU. So I ran with that idea and now I give you this.**

**ETA: I have nothing against Catholics (I have family that take part in the Catholic faith), this is just Anakin being Anakin. Also, I promise I will respond to reviews on all my stories shortly, but I'm trying to play catch up on some real life things so it may take me a little while. Please don't think I'm ignoring you, as I appreciate the time it took for you to submit your review and I love hearing reactions to my stories.**

* * *

Anakin really should have turned down the offer to coach at the private school. He _really_ should have turned down that offer.

He likes coaching—lives and breathes the joy of yelling at teenagers who run around on the football field like chickens with their heads cut off—but he doesn't like the cheerleaders.

Especially not the head cheerleader at his new school, whose name is Ahsoka and who is a very, very annoying girl.

Anakin also does not like the teachers. They're stuffy and give his players too much homework, which makes them either ineligible to play since their grades suck or their brains too worn out to practice or play games.

And that's the reason why he has to go talk to one of the stuffiest teachers in the school—at least it's not the teacher who smells like cat piss and wears socks with sandals, that poor misguided man. No, but _Professor_ _Kenobi _might just be worse. It's a huge possibility. Scottish, dresses like a college professor, breaks up fights with no self-preservation instinct to be found, always reading a book, drinks tea like it's equal to air in his bodily needs, and is… well, Anakin would never admit to anyone else, but Kenobi's not bad looking either. Hell, the guy even _convinces_ the kids they should do their homework, which is why Anakin has to talk to Kenobi and try to resist whatever negotiating Scottish vortex of charm—or some crap like that—in order to get him to stop assigning so much damn homework, since they won't win the Friday game against the other big Catholic school across town if they don't have more practice.

Anakin sometimes wonders what his mother would think about his tendency to obsess over football, especially since he's a grown adult and not in high school anymore.

"I could have sworn there was a rule about no hats in the building," a familiarly irritating Scottish voice says from the desk within the classroom.

Like an ashamed little boy, Anakin yanks his baseball cap off and smoothes down his wavy brown hair. "Sorry."

"You haven't changed much, I can see."

Right. Did Anakin mention he'd had Kenobi as a teacher when the man was younger and still working at crappy little inner city schools? Which makes his thoughts that Kenobi is attractive that much weirder, considering Kenobi started out as his middle school teacher fresh out of college. Anakin had almost pitied the man—middle schoolers are the worst, like piranhas who can smell fear. "Oh, give me a break. Neither have you."

That earns him a small chuckle. "I suppose physical appearance doesn't count?"

"Not really." Anakin shrugs, absent-mindedly reaching out to spin the globe on top of a file cabinet.

"Please don't touch that."

"I'm not going to break-" Anakin breaks off when it tumbles from the cabinet and he barely catches it. He gives a sheepish smile when Kenobi crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Okay, fine, I'll stop."

"I assume you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"And why would you assume that?"

Kenobi points at the bulletin board behind him in response, where the very well done drawing of him on fire with Anakin and his old classmates holding lighters in the distance laugh. Kenobi still looks exasperated with crossed arms in the picture, rather than running around like a normal person would.

Oh. Right. He remembers that drawing. One of his finest pieces of artwork. "Right. Um…"

"Gather your thoughts before you come into conversation."

"You're not my father, stop correcting me."

That gives them both a moment of pause, when they remember Kenobi had been Anakin's only support when his mother had been killed in a car wreck. When Kenobi had been his confidant and had hired him as a TA since Anakin couldn't legally get a job otherwise and even though on a teacher's salary Kenobi couldn't technically afford to pay him but did anyway. When Anakin had told Kenobi he was like a father to him.

"So anyway," Anakin begins after clearing his throat, "a few of my players are swamped with homework and I'm wondering if you could back off just until the season's over."

"It isn't my fault they don't do their work in class and instead waste their time drawing phallic images on school property, texting, and giggling about whatever stupid thing they've discovered on Twitter or YouTube lately."

Okay, so Kenobi has him there. "What if I gave them incentive to do their work in class?"

"Then there won't be the problem of them having homework. Unless, of course, they continue their idiotic activities even after completion of their assignments."

Ah. The old punishment of more homework the more you screw around in class. "Well, that doesn't seem unfair."

"Mind your double negatives. Not all mathematical principles work with language."

"Well that seems fair," Anakin corrects himself reluctantly, gaining a strange small satisfaction as Kenobi's eyes fill with amusement. _Yes, I still bend to your will, assface. Are you happy with yourself?_ He isn't sure why he's satisfied that Kenobi's amused, though.

"Good, then go on and coach your sweaty armored clones. I have papers to grade."

The dismissal is nostalgic to him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going." _C'mon, Skywalker, just ask him. You know he's just going to say no, so what can it hurt to ask? _"Say, you want to go get Starbucks in a little while?"

"Actually, Starbucks does sound wonderful."

_Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck._

* * *

Anakin really doesn't expect to see Kenobi sitting politely on the bottom bench of the bleachers for the football field, waiting for practice to finish so he can go get Starbucks.

The younger man can't decide whether to be weirded out or pleased as he blows his whistle to end practice. Luckily, he doesn't have to worry about the idiots messing around in the shower—whipping each other's asses with towels and comparing the size of their dicks and whatever else teenaged boys like to do when in a room with their naked peers—since it's Wednesday and the "good little Catholic boys" have to go to church or their parents will murder them. And apparently the Pope won't cast the parents out of the Catholic religion because it's the kids' faults for not attending church or something like that.

Anakin could have sworn Catholics were supposed to be good kids, but maybe that's only with girls. The Ahsoka girl would probably be shouting about the misogyny and oppression of women right now, were she here.

"I'm surprised you don't jump in with them," Kenobi says as they walk to Anakin's car. He'd momentarily forgotten Kenobi doesn't own a car and rides the bus to the nearest stop before walking the rest of the way to the school. Anakin has three hypotheses as to why that is.

1. He's a hippie and wants to stop global warming.

2. He's afraid of cars after the accident that left him with whiplash and subsequently earned him three weeks of torture via middle schoolers because "he looked funny with the neck brace".

3. He's hired poor kids to be his TAs again and can't afford a car.

All three are very likely, but since he and Kenobi haven't talked much in years, Anakin isn't sure which one it really is.

"No, I don't like getting too close to them because they all smell worse than if an egg ate garlic and farted in a sulfur pit."

Kenobi snorts, which is one way he laughs. At least Anakin is still comedic. "Teenagers, as a rule, do not usually believe in deodorant. Or so I've heard—I was born an adult."

"Are you sure all adults believe in sanitation?"

"Ah, true. Mr. Griffin is rather foul smelling. Poor fellow, it would do him some good to find new homes for a few of his cats. Of course, it's not quite as bad as my old middle school teacher, Mr. Jinn."

"Didn't you tell me he was a hippie?"

"Yes, he was. He rarely showered and did not believe in personal hygiene one bit. I was very attached to the man, but I also had to resist my gagging reflexes every time I was around him."

Anakin laughs. "Sounds like a fun guy. Is he why you keep soap and deodorant in your desk drawer?"

"You know about that?"

"Yes, because I tried to find the perfect drawer to put a frog in."

Kenobi gives him a flat look. "I'd forgotten that. That poor fellow might have starved had he not started making noise."

"How was I supposed to know you don't go in your desk a lot?"

"If you want to pull the perfect prank, then you should observe your victim over a lengthy period of time before acting."

"You know about pulling pranks?"

"I was a bit rotten when I was young. One of my best friends, Quinlan, was always in detention and doing cruel things to the teachers and other students. The only reason he left me alone is because I started getting him back."

"Sorry, but I can't see you, Professor Kenobi, doing anything mean except give homework. You're just… soft. What do you want?" He asks as he pulls up to the speaker box.

"Hot chocolate with salted caramel."

Anakin orders their drinks—with a biscotti thrown in for himself because he loves biscotti—and turns to face Kenobi. The man is the poster child of professors everywhere. Dresses in a white long-sleeved shirt, navy blue cardigan, brown tweed jacket with the leather elbow patches, brown trousers, and brown loafers. His brown shoulder bag sits in his lap. The only thing missing is gray hair and glasses.

"By the way you're staring at me, you are either waiting to try out a pickup line, or you want to ask a favor."

Anakin sulks, face red as he turns back to face the car in front of them while Kenobi chuckles to his right. He hands the professor his hot chocolate and takes a drink of his latte before driving forward. "I assume you moved houses."

"Just to an apartment. I don't have need for all the space a house gives. It's in the same apartment complex as yours, I believe."

Well. He wasn't expecting that. All the better to spy on Kenobi and his nice arse, he supposes. And then that supposing turns into embarrassment as he remembers he is thinking about spying on his former teacher who happens to be sixteen years older than him. Talk about awkward.

* * *

When Anakin's doorbell rings the next morning, he's pretty sure the person on the other side can hear his loud cursing as he pulls on pants, turns off Star Trek, and yanks open the door. He should have expected to find Kenobi standing there, dressed identically to how he was yesterday and looking rather _awake_ for seven in the morning. "Um… hi?"

"You're going to be late."

"I don't technically have to be there until three."

"Ah, yes, _technically_, you do have to be there before three."

"What the fuck kind of rule is that?"

"Still against the establishment, I see. I believe you would get along well with some of my er… 'hipster' students."

Anakin steps aside and Kenobi steps in, stopping just inside the living room and looking around. "Your… décor is very… different."

"I'm going to clean this weekend, I swear," Anakin replies before disappearing to his bedroom and coming back out with a school sweatshirt. He feels like the mascot, instead of tigers, should have been something like "archangels" or "crusaders" or something like that. But wait, why is he justifying his apartment's messiness to Kenobi? Why?

"Are you ready to go?"

"Will you give me one damn minute?" He pulls on his old Adidas and stands, looking around for his red baseball cap.

Kenobi wordlessly plucks the cap off the floor and holds it out for him. "Now are you ready?"

"Sure. Let's get Starbucks."

"But we'll be late!" Kenobi calls after him as he hurries to catch up with Anakin, who is rushing down the stairs to his car.

"If the troll has a problem with you being late one time, then he can deal with it!"

Kenobi stares at Anakin in shock. "You call Principal Yoda a _troll_?"

"Yeah, most of the teachers do. Now get in the car."

So, okay, Anakin kind of feels bad for saying that to Kenobi's face. He'd forgotten Kenobi worships the ground Yoda walks on. But c'mon, the guy looks exactly like a troll. It's uncanny.

To make up for Kenobi's fear of being late, he offers up the option of getting Yoda and Windu—the scary-ass secretary who Anakin swears looks just like Samuel L. Jackson—which appeases Kenobi instantly.

While he leaves the older man to deliver the Starbucks to his personal "God and Jesus Christ", Anakin strolls into Kenobi's classroom and looks up at the drawing of Kenobi on fire again. It brings back fond memories. When he'd shown it to Kenobi one day after school, the man had laughed like a normal person and said that would likely be his reaction if Anakin ever set him ablaze. Then he'd offered to put it up in his classroom—which is rare since Kenobi hardly ever puts up artwork on the walls—and Anakin had been repeatedly asked by his classmates why he was grinning about it for the next few weeks and why he hadn't gotten punished for drawing it.

"Ah, did you miss coming to my lectures?" Kenobi greets in his own way as he walks around his desk and pulls things out of his bag.

"Maybe just a little," Anakin replies, picking up a stapler and laughing when he sees the label with his handwriting on it. "You still have Tupac?"

"Yes, I still have Tupac. Ms. Tano and a few of her friends have christened another of my staplers as 'Maurice' for some reason. I dare say I may be getting attached to a few students."

"Oh, the horror." Anakin clutches his heart and puts the back of his hand to his head.

"Hush, I'm not a social person."

"Definitely not. I'm surprised you chose such a social career."

"I enjoy teaching. It was a simple choice."

"So are you still teaching English?"

"I took up World History as well."

"Seriously? Why?"

"Because I love both subjects."

"You're crazy, but whatever trips your trigger, I guess."

Anakin could swear Kenobi smiles at him. "What do you plan to do until football?"

"I don't know. This is why I don't come in until three."

"What do you normally do at home?"

"Watch Star Trek, build with Legos, eat, sleep, the whole nine yards."

"… Sounds fun?"

The bell rings and Anakin puts on his baseball cap. "I guess I'll go prank Windu today." He's out the door before Kenobi can protest.

* * *

Anakin nearly jumps out of his skin when he finds Kenobi waiting politely on the bleachers again after football practice and showering is over. "Um… I guess you want Starbucks again?"

"I may have become addicted."

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

Friday morning, Kenobi allows Anakin to sit in his classroom as long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't touch anything. A notebook and a pen keep the brunette occupied until lunch. "Why don't you ever eat in the teachers' lounge?" Anakin asks after swallowing a mouthful of Cheez-Its.

"I told you, I'm not a social person," Kenobi answers as he peers at a written paper in front of him. "Can you read this?"

Anakin looks at the handwriting and squints. "My eyes aren't bad and I still can't read that."

"Mind your double negatives," Kenobi mutters as he writes a fat zero at the top of the paper. "How hard is it for children to make their writing clear? It's not as though I ask them to write in cursive, so surely they could put forth the tiniest bit of effort to print legibly."

"Do you have any girls who dot their 'I' with hearts this year?"

Kenobi sourly holds up three fingers as he strikes through an entire sentence with blood red ink from his pen. "Also, because of the whole 'Twilight' vampires logo, I have one boy ending his lowercase 'g' with a spiral. It's aggravating."

Anakin snickers and takes a drink of Mountain Dew. "I think sometimes they do it on purpose."

"Oh, I'm sure they do." The bell rings then, and Kenobi's stomach growls. "Well, it seems I've missed lunch again. Are you able to entertain yourself until school is finished?"

The redhead earns a small salute with Anakin's two fingers. "Sure thing, Professor."

* * *

"Are you coming to the game tonight?" Anakin pokes his head into Kenobi's classroom, seeing the man is still grading at his desk.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't care for sports."

"I'll buy you Starbucks over the whole weekend if you come."

Kenobi finds himself sitting politely on the bleachers again, but he covers his ears and focuses on the back of Anakin's t-shirt the entire time. It's ten o'clock by the time the game is over, and the two men skirt around spots of vomit and slush from abandoned Icees as they walk to Anakin's car. "You find all of that fun?"

Anakin laughs. "It's probably not fun to be in the crowds, but it's more fun to be on the level of the field and watch the players. Kind of like watching basketball courtside."

"Whatever floats your boat, Anakin."


End file.
